Star Wars: A New Hopeless Troupe of Idiots
by Dr. Wafflehead
Summary: At blue base in a boxed in canyon where the sun never sets, Caboose has a vision in which a lady-haired man tells him he needs to rescue a certain Naberian Senator on a certain desert planet. Meanwhile in galaxy far far away, Vader has his own vision and sets out to find his beloved. And a certain crazy exFreelancer thought to be dead gets his hands on a ghost A.I thingy. Oh boy...


Author's Note

Hello you sexy sons of b*****s, Wafflehead here!(let's keep it PG) This is my first published work ever in the history, so I hope it isn't absolute shit(screw PG). As of right now I should be studying for my Spanish finals, but there is a character who speaks Spanish in this Fan-Fic, so this kinda counts as study time. Anywho, if you haven't guessed from the title, this is a Star Wars AU/Red vs. Blue cross-over. There will be guns, there will be potty words, and there will be sex jokes, so if that aint your cup of tea, get out now. I'll be sure to make references to other RvB episodes because they did a shit ton of that in the series, kinda trying to stick to the RvB sense of humor. This is gonna get interesting. Thanks for wasting your time reading this, now on with the show! TO THE POPCORN MACHINE!

P.S Please leave constructive criticism, not flame. For example "instead of doing this, you should do that" or "you should work on this", not "OMFG YOU SUCK MONKEY BALLS YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF!" It would be greatly appreciated.

Sincerely, Dr. Wafflehead

Prologue: The Climb

Freelancer Storage Facility

_The shotgun shells stung the hulking figure, but little more. He continued his slow but steady approach towards the man clad in red armor. The red figure approached as well and fired again. This time it stung more, but he ignored the blinking red warning signs on his HUD. His vision was already filled with red from his battle with Agent Tex, and now she, the best of the best, was dead. He had killed her with practically his bare hands. And now these raving idiots, teams Red and Blue, along with Washington and there cowardly field medic, would share the same fate. Another blast, this time much more painful, broke his shields and penetrated his armor. He did nothing more than grunt, showing no outward signs of pain. His hand shot out and in the blink of an eye he had disarmed the Red Team's leader and hoisted him in the air by his throat with one hand._

"_You're mine." He thought, but only made a growling noise from deep in his throat. He had lost the ability to speak on a mission long ago during a fatal battle on the bridge. The Red leader didn't seem concerned at all that a highly skilled, well-armed, arguably insane, genuinely pissed off Freelancer agent had a death grip on his wind pipe. Hell, it almost seemed like he was enjoying himself._

"_Hey Meta, settle a bet, would ya?" he said almost nonchalantly as he attached a hook to the Freelancer's chest plate "does that thing look like a big cat to you?" The Meta didn't here Sarge's question. He looked past him to the other two members of Red team. They were in the process of pushing their Warthog over the side of the icy cliff._

"_Push, Griff!" shouted Simmons as he huffed and puffed._

"_I am pushing!" Griff shot back as he gasped for breath. By then, the Meta had followed the cable running from the hook through the snow... and to the Warthog. And with one last burst of strength, the two Reds sent the jeep plummeting off the side of the glacier. Before the Meta could react, he was flat on his back sliding across the ice and snow towards the sheer cliff and the icy waters below. He was flailing around searching for something, anything to grab onto. His hand grabbed onto the yellow ones leg as he fell over the edge. Griff managed to grab something to break his fall, while the Meta kept falling down, down, down…_

The scene played over and over in his head unbidden. The only sound was the howling wind that whipped around his body and the grunting and hissing that resulted from the injuries of his previous battle and the hard landing on the ice below. He had already assessed the damage sustained during his previous fight with Red Team and Blue Team and his perilous tumble down to the icy waters below him. The Meta had at the very least three broken ribs, the two gaping holes in his shoulder where the teal one's energy sword passed through, another gash in his shoulder from Tex's knife, and multiple bullet wounds where Sarge's shotgun pellets had hit that were bleeding profusely. The iron taste of blood filled his mouth as the Meta stared upward through his cracked, dome shaped visor at the stars and his destination, the tip of the glacier from which he had fallen. As mind numbing pain ripped through his body with every move and the icy winds of this God-forsaken place tried to blast him off the wall of ice and into the waters that he had barely escaped, he swore to whatever god watched from above that he would kill each and every member of Red Team and Blue Team along with his backstabbing "friend" Washington. He swore that he would find the Alpha AI and become whole again. And as he hauled himself over the side and kneeled in the snow, gazing up at the unlucky soldiers with their weapons trained at his head, he swore that anyone who got in his way would suffer the same fate. And as he let out a blood curdling roar and charged at the doomed soldiers that stood before him, he almost pitied his opponents. Almost.

Bridge of the Executioner

The half man half machine known as Darth Vader stared out the viewport of his massive flagship at the green and blue planet before him, Naboo. He despised this planet almost as much as his home world Tantooine, or the hellish volcanic planet Mustafar. Naboo, like the others, brought back painful memories of his past life. He pushed them out his head. He couldn't afford to dwell on the memories of a dead man. Vader was here with a purpose, a mission. His spies had confirmed the presence of the Rebel Alliance on this force-forsaken world. A small and insignificant force, but still one that had to be dealt with. Vader looked forward to it and dreaded it. While he reveled at idea of vanquishing these infidels, he despised the idea of stepping foot on this planet. Seeing that there was nothing he could do here, Vader returned to his private quarters. He reclined onto his meditation throne and waited while the robotic limbs on the ceiling of his chamber removed his mask. Once that was done, the dark lord began his meditation trance. But instead of finding peace of mind, he was assaulted with nightmares of the past.

"_Lord Vader, can you hear me"_

_Silence. Pain echoed through the battered man's body, but he ignored it. The room smelled of blood and antiseptic. The horrid med droids stood off to the side silently._

"_Where is Padmé? Is she alright? Is she safe?"_

_More silence. It was unbearable. The next words that left his master's mouth would hurt him more than any blade and haunt him till the end of his days._

"_I'm afraid that, in your anger… you killed her."_

"_What?! No! She's alive, I felt it!" Desperately he searched for her presence in the Force. He search turned up empty. She was gone. Regret and anguish ripped at his heart as realization as to what he had done sank in. He tore himself free of his restraints. The room shook violently as the dark side of the force poured from his essence, fueled by his raw pain and anger. Medical equipment and droids flew across the dimly lit room and shattered against the cold durasteel walls. Finally, Lord Vader let out all his anger and grief in one word._

"_Nooooooooo!"_

It was at this point that the dark lord would wake up in a cold sweat, self-hatred and mourning tearing away at what little was left of his humanity. But this was no ordinary sleep for Vader. His most startling revelation had yet to come.

_He was in a maze. A thick fog obscured his vision. High, jet black walls shot up towards the sky all around him. He heard a cry for help. Vader had heard countless pleas for mercy in his campaigns across the galaxy, but this one was different. It was familiar, yet he knew he had never heard this woman's voice before. Darth quickened his pace as he searched the winding maze for the source of these cries. He felt a burning desire to help this woman, an inexplicable _need _to save her. Then he heard it. Her voice. The voice of an angel. _His _angel. It was unmistakable, there was no other voice in the galaxy that could sound so panicked and melodious as Hers. He was running at break neck speed through maze._

"_Padmé!" shouted Vader. She was close. He could feel her before he saw her. And as he round the corner, she was there. Her wide, auburn eyes that seemed to stare down into his very soul. The eyes that should be full of relief and joy to see her husband and lover were ablaze with fear and unspeakable anger._

"_You!" she screamed at him "You monster!" He should have expected her to be angry at him, anticipated her harsh words. But they felt like a blow to the face. He tried to open his mouth to speak but could not find the right words to calm her, couldn't even form complete thoughts under her unforgiving gaze._

"_You killed them!" She shrieked, hot tears streaming down her face as she lost control over herself._

"_You murdered my children! You killed my husband, Anakin Skywalker!"_

Authors Note

I hope administration doesn't rip my heart out for having two authors notes, oh well, I feel the need to clarify a few things. Yes, Padmé thinks Vader killed Anakin. That will be explained later on. Yes, I'm aware it was a long ass prologue. Get used to it. I intend on writing in more RvB next chapter and I'm also gonna get Padmé's POV. Stayed tuned for more my friends and have patience, our characters will cross paths within the next few chapters.

See ya next chapter!

Dr. Wafflehead


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